


I Don't Mind

by vertebris



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-10-07 03:44:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17358311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vertebris/pseuds/vertebris
Summary: Kim Jongin is a simple boy, but at his workplace, he’s anything but.





	I Don't Mind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kaileidohscope](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaileidohscope/gifts).



Jongin didn't truly know what deeds he had done in the previous life when Kyungsoo first asked him out, and now, sitting in a café across Kyungsoo while being neck-deep in his studies, he thinks that goodness, he must've been a very genuine person back then. It's autumn, almost winter, and it means that it's almost been a month since they started dating. It also means that it's almost been a month since Jongin could openly stare at Kyungsoo, unabashedly so, like what he's currently doing.

 

When Kyungsoo looks up from the pages that he's been studying, catching Jongin mid-session of gazing the longest at Kyungsoo's perfect strands of hair, there's a smile splayed on Kyungsoo's lips. “I thought the main objective was to study, Jongin.”

 

And of course, another bout of embarrassment from Jongin's end. “I... well, got distracted,” he admits as the blush creeps onto his cheeks. “Hyung, I—“and he instantly forgets what he wants to say the moment Kyungsoo's knee brushes against his under the table, leaving him double flustered over the moment.

 

“Hm?” Kyungsoo asks, palpably curious. It's either he isn't aware of the effects he has on Jongin, or... well, there's no or. Jongin is certain that Kyungsoo is quite astute when it comes to reading situations, always knowing when it's appropriate to hold hands, to kiss cheeks. He's not the mess that Jongin is, and that's good, for in a relationship there needs at least to be one person who has their things together. “You look tired. Shall we end it here?”

 

Perhaps he is, although the night hasn't been as productive as he thought it could've been. Studying with Kyungsoo has proved to be far from a brilliant idea. “Yeah, I think so.” He pretends to yawn, stretching slightly, arching his neck sideways to obtain that extra effect.

 

“Alright,” Kyungsoo nods, starting to collect his materials from the table.

 

Jongin follows suit, trying not to stare at Kyungsoo’s hands as he sweeps his own books from the small table, shoving them into his backpack. The day when he isn’t working like this is a true bliss, and he counts his blessings for it. Kyungsoo is quick to finish the last of his drink, Jongin behind him. He swears that when they’re on their way to exit the place, girls’ eyes are drawn to Kyungsoo. Proper as always even when he’s wearing nothing extravagant, there’s something about Kyungsoo that seems to be magnetic. Even a hoodie is enough for Kyungsoo to look sharp and crisp, and Jongin envies that while simultaneously trying to channel the energy of the simmering jealousy somewhere else.

 

It’s not until they’re in a relatively quieter area of the neighborhood that Kyungsoo takes his hand, intertwining their fingers in a smooth move. Jongin suppresses a satisfied sigh, not wanting to make himself further into a fool by doing so. He clasps Kyungsoo’s hand in return, the giddiness not yet dying down.

 

“Hyung,” he starts again even when the silence never grows uncomfortable between them. Their quiet is oddly not awkward even when they’ve only known each other for months. And a thing that also doesn’t change after months: how Jongin’s heart skips a beat whenever Kyungsoo sends a look his way. Under the gaze, it’s not uncommon for Jongin to proceed into forgetting what he wanted to say. “Are you going anywhere for the holiday?” asks almost hurriedly before his mind manages to blank out.

 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Kyungsoo replies. “Not that I’m aware of. Are you returning to Busan during then?”

 

Jongin wishes that the answer is no, but he also misses his parents and his dogs. It means being separated from Kyungsoo for at least a month, and the thought alone pains him. He’s really whipped for the older male; being in the honeymoon phase doesn’t help his cause. “Yeah.”

 

Jongin is startled when all of a sudden, Kyungsoo corners him against a fence. The area is deafeningly silent, and there’s nobody but the two of them. This close, he can see the pronounced line of Kyungsoo’s jaw as he looks up at Jongin, who’s certain that he’s as red as a cooked crab by this point. Kyungsoo’s eyes are shadowed with intents, levelled at Jongin’s lips, and Jongin has dated enough guys — well, two — to tell the implication behind the gesture.

 

Reciprocating it, he closes his eyes, leaning closer to Kyungsoo as Kyungsoo moves a hand to guide Jongin’s chin. Jongin nearly makes a frustrated noise as Kyungsoo presses a kiss on the corner of Jongin’s lips instead, and when their lips finally collide, Jongin swears there’s a ghost of a smile that he can taste in Kyungsoo’s kiss. Kyungsoo can be cheeky when he wants to, that’s for sure. Kyungsoo pulls away quickly enough, leaving Jongin with a suppressed moan of protestation. As there are voices that come closer, however, Jongin casts a grateful look at his lover, watching the passersby walk past them.

 

A tacit approval follows as they walk side by side again, and Kyungsoo walks close enough to whisper to Jongin, “That was long overdue, wasn’t it?”

 

“Very.” Jongin nods in agreement, meeting Kyungsoo’s smile with his own.

 

 

 

The clock ticks slowly for Jongin — then again, time is a subjective measure when he's faced with certain moments of peril. He's been shackled to this table for a long time, or so it feels, tethered to the exam that he isn't certain if he can nail. But he has to, for he was not sent this far from Busan to fail his parents. However, the weight of his eyelids seems to double from studying until late at night, and the weight of his chest seems to enable his mind to wander away from the classroom. It's enough to justify, for now, and he just realizes that the exam is over when the bell rings. The teacher starts collecting the papers, and he stretches unceremoniously since he's sure that he probably would still get an A after the efforts exerted throughout the whole semester.

 

Sehun's remark is the next thing, seated next to him as everyone else is preparing to leave, the bustling noise masking their conversation with ease. “You're thinking about him,” Sehun simply states. “And you ignored my request for an answer, you shit.”

 

Jongin chuckles sheepishly at that, a hand rubbing at the nape of his neck. “That obvious, huh?” he inquires, packing his writing utensils into his bag.

 

“More than obvious,” Sehun huffs, getting on his feet alongside Jongin. “You're officially whipped. Bet you can't join me for lunch.”

 

“Hey,” Jongin pouts as he heads off towards the door with Sehun. “I'm not always with him.”

 

A roll of eyes. “Yeah, right.”

 

“You have work anyway, don't you?” Jongin asks, lowering his voice. Looks around to ensure the person they've been talking about isn't around.

 

Sehun quirks an eyebrow, and shrugs. “I do. Wouldn't have paid attention to my shifts if you weren't lying, would you?” In his tone, however, there's amusement contained.

 

There's a pang of guilt that tugs within, Jongin isn't going to lie. He smiles at that, since he knows Sehun isn't taking it seriously, but there's a sense of nagging feelings inside nonetheless. “Thanks, Sehun,” and he says it with sincerity. He doesn't know where he'll be right now without that childhood friend of his, to be entirely honest.

 

A smirk. “Yeah, no,” he teases. “I'm still waiting for that treat when you get paid.”

 

“Of course,” Jongin grins. “I’ll treat you to any meat place you want.”

 

 

 

Kim Jongin is a simple boy, but at his workplace, he’s anything but. There are men lining up to perform the sleekest of moves, and he’s one of the most coveted among them even when he’s only twenty-one. Considerably young, but not inexperienced. A brand of his own, he’s using his made-up name, Kai, as the star of this small constellation located right in the heart of Gangnam.

 

The club is, as always, hazed with the weight of substances. Talking bodies that he can barely differentiate as he peeks through the curtain to see the audience for the night — none that he cannot handle. It’s more crowded than usual, but he assumes that it’s just the weekend speaking its volume. And he’s almost always on shifts on weekends these days, considering the high demand on the market for the so-called Kai.

 

Also a reason as to why he’s almost always sleep-deprived during the weekends, but he must maintain the lies to Kyungsoo. There’s a thought that flickers, wondering how Kyungsoo would react if he’s ever found out that his boyfriend works in a place like this. However, he’s certain that Kyungsoo is not the type to visit this kind of clubs, so he’s safe for now.

 

When it’s his turn for a solo reserved for him, he acts like he stumbles out of the backstage. A little stunt is all that it takes for the women to start screaming his name, and from sweeping their faces with a glance, he knows they’re typically not much older than he is. He starts smirking at no one in particular; his habit is to keep his gaze on top of everyone’s heads so that it seems as if he’s paying attention to each of them, when he’s reserving that act for later.

 

Tonight, he’s clad in all black, with his eyes rimmed in the sensuous eyeshadow. He starts slow, the song starts with a crescendo of whispers, a product of three weeks’ worth of practice. Body follows the almost-there rhythms set by nothing but the guidance of words, their cadence becoming his music. And this is the part where Jongin sheds his skin to become Kai, fluid movements enough to silence the whole soundproof chamber, as the audience is positively entranced in his silhouette. Even in the dark, the audience would be able to distinguish the fact that he’s taking off his outer top in the midst of his dance, leaving behind a sleeveless shirt.

 

When the bass drops, the lights flood onto the stage, and he plays with a serious expression that delivers the message of the dance, as for him, it’s a form of art more than merely a job. He channels this part while ensuring that he has time to take off his shirt, leaving his toned body bare for everyone’s perusal. A grin is splayed on his lips now, teasing the audience as he dances closer to the edge of the stage.

 

There’s a certain group that seems to worship him, and this close he can tell that some of them are front row guests. It’s no wonder that he gets really big tips as he takes off his baseball cap to obtain the crisp bills. He ruffles his hair, blonde locks unruly but the sight drives his fangirls wilder. Swooping at all the money that he can, he closes the performance with a bow.

 

 

 

The night usually ends late, but recently since he keeps turning down the offers to bring himself in a private room with those hungry people, he finishes earlier. Early enough to still text Kyungsoo on his way home, pretending he was studying or sleeping the whole time. Or, well, as the lie spoken, working where Sehun does.

 

 **[ Jongin ]** hyunggggg~

 

Tonight, however, there’s no reply from Kyungsoo for a while. He’s in the locker room for the strippers when some commotion happens, with a hoard of the juniors rushing through the entrance. Quirking his eyebrows, Jongin asks one of them — Minseok — whom he knows. “What’s up?”

 

Minseok stops to tend to Jongin’s question with a dazed look, as if incredulous that Jongin is talking to him. “Oh— Uh, there’s a shareholder surveying the place, so we’re kind of… hiding.”

 

He furrows his eyebrows after nodding at Minseok, who scurries to find a spot for himself. It’s a little uncommon, but not entirely unheard of. Some shareholders, who would be their boss’ bosses, tend to come from times to times, usually to hire a stripper into a private room. He ignores them when his phone vibrates with a ding, indicating a message. From Kyungsoo, which gives him a smile. It’s easier to talk to Kyungsoo when he’s not being a blushing mess the way he usually is.

 

 **[ Kyungsoo ]** where are you?

 

The question gives him a mild jitter as he has to lie. He hates lying, but he has been with Kyungsoo since they started knowing each other. Since Jongin harbored a crush on Kyungsoo a long, long time ago. Not everyone would accept his work with an open mind, and he’s scared that Kyungsoo won’t. Maybe one day, when he believes in their relationship being steady enough for it, but it doesn’t help with the swelling guilt.

**[ Jongin ]** at home. i miss you~ i don’t want to study ( `ε´ )

 **[ Kyungsoo ]** well, we have to. i would offer studying together, but last time we did you didn’t study…

 **[ Jongin ]** ack, hyung. it’s unfair that you looked so good that day! so i couldn’t concentrate (╯︵╰,)

 **[ Kyungsoo ]** excuses, jongin, excuses.

 **[ Jongin ]** it’s the truth! trust me o(TヘTo)

 **[ Kyungsoo ]** goodness, how many of those emoticons do you have?

 **[ Jongin ]** it’s embedded in my autocorrect! i have plenty ..・ヾ(。＞＜)シ

 

He snickers to himself. After over a month of texting, Kyungsoo finally asked about that, which reminds him of the fond memories. Kyungsoo was the one inquiring his number one day, which was perhaps not out of the blue seeing that Jongin had practically been salivating every time he looked at Kyungsoo since the moment they met.

 

“You okay?” Baekhyun’s voice suddenly creeps in, causing Jongin to jump in surprise. He laughs, standing behind where Jongin has been seated, but it’s obvious that he’s been leaning forward to look past Jongin’s shoulder.

 

Jongin whirls, sending glares. “You don’t just take a peek at someone’s phone!” he protests.

 

“Guess what? I just did,” Baekhyun chuckles. “And you were giggling by yourself.”

 

“I was not! Giggling!”

 

“Is it your girlfriend?” Baekhyun teases, and Jongin has just realized that Baekhyun hasn’t even dressed up, standing there after shower, clad in only a towel wrapped around his waist. Toned body left bare, no wonder Jongin felt motivated the first time he joined the club to work on that abs.

 

“N-No!” he tries his best not to let the heat pool in his cheeks. To no avail, for sure.

 

“Boyfriend it is,” Baekhyun says before pivoting to finalize the conversation. He whistles in a teasing manner, leaving Jongin even more embarrassed. “I won’t tell anyone! It’s heartbreaking for your fans, though.”

 

Jongin grunts, knowing that there’s no proper conversation when it comes to Baekhyun, so he checks his phone again to find that there’s no more reply from Kyungsoo. Perhaps the older male is busy, so he lets it be.

 

 

 

“You haven’t — what?” Sehun’s response to his statement as Jongin toes his shoes off before entering Sehun’s apartment. That’s when he knows that he has poor judgment when it comes to starting a conversation.

 

“Invited him to my place,” he reiterates, pouting slightly. He doesn’t think that it’s a bad thing; there’s just never any opportunity for him to do so… or maybe there is, but Jongin, being Jongin, is too bad at spotting such chances. “But he hasn’t invited me to his place either.”

 

“Ah,” Sehun nods. “And as always, he’s the one taking the initiatives, isn’t he? Meaning you won’t be inviting him anytime soon unless he does so first.”

 

Jongin worries his lower lip between his teeth as he follows Sehun inside, putting his backpack nearby the couch. “Is it… bad?”

 

“No,” Sehun casually replies, taking his jacket off. “Just a tad slow is all.”

 

“Well, to be fair… we just kissed, like, three days ago,” he says, trying to match Sehun’s tone. Clears his throat at the recollection — kissing is nice, he likes kissing. He avoids Sehun’s glance for the time being, busying himself by removing a lint from the couch. “We’ve been kissing a lot since, though.”

 

Sehun wears what Jongin would call the ‘say what’ face. “Not here to judge, but damn, that was slow.”

 

“I know,” Jongin sulks as he turns on Sehun’s PS4, trying to appear as if he’s busy with choosing what game to play. “But it feels just right with him.”

 

He isn’t facing Sehun but he can tell that Sehun is shrugging. “You’ve dated before. As long as it feels right for you, then it’s good.”

 

Inevitably, the soft smile emerges on Jongin’s lips. “Thanks, Sehun,” is all that he can say in regards to this — Sehun has been sticking with him through thick and thin, this one is of no exception.

 

 

 

There’s a spot behind their campus that’s obscured by the foliage, thick bushes that fence the field, providing them with hidden spots that not many would notice. Jongin, the resident quick napper, however, would know it first and foremost. Showing Kyungsoo the spot is just a matter of time, and so, he does. It’s a month too late, some might think, but now that they’re starting to become intimate Jongin believes that this is the right time.

 

With his hand in Kyungsoo’s as the campus is no longer crammed with the afternoon crowd, he guides Kyungsoo towards the spot, right behind the trees. It’s slightly dark, located in the corner of the whole field. “This is where I go for naps usually,” he informs, although he’s certain that they would use it more than for napping.

 

The glint of mischief in Kyungsoo’s eyes speaks likewise. As soon as they’re settled, Jongin has to pretend that he didn’t notice the mirth sent via the nonverbal signals from Kyungsoo’s end. As soon as he’s seated across Kyungsoo, opening the book that he should be studying for, Kyungsoo’s quick glance surveys the place. Upon confirming that there’s no one in the perimeters, Kyungsoo leans forward to press a chaste kiss on Jongin’s lips. Grinning with the heart-shaped lips, he speaks, “Can’t seem to miss this opportunity.”

 

The bravery that fills Jongin is rather foreign when he follows Kyungsoo’s lips as the elder pulls back, asking for more. He loves the feeling of having Kyungsoo’s lips against his own, the hand tilting his chin to secure the lip lock. When Kyungsoo’s tongue peek out to lick at the seam of his lips, Jongin relents with ease, opening his mouth for an entrance. When their tongues meet, speaking sans words, Jongin’s heartbeats accelerate. He hasn’t been kissed like this for so long he’s so parched, and Kyungsoo doesn’t kiss him in ways his exes would. This is not ravaging, leaning towards the gentler side that otherwise doesn’t truly show in Kyungsoo when he’s not with Jongin. He feels extraordinary; wildest dreams come true, considering that he eyed Kyungsoo for so long prior to their getting close.

 

When their tongues converse, he finds the desire that usually would be reserved for when he’s alone in the confines of his room. It burns, and Jongin is rather embarrassed, but cannot help himself. He sucks and nips at Kyungsoo’s lower lip when Kyungsoo pulls away slightly to breathe, and the hunger is something that surprises Jongin, having used to being the passive one in every relationship he’s in. He lets Kyungsoo go after a while, leaving Kyungsoo’s lip abused, raw and red. In response, Kyungsoo chuckles.

 

“You’ve never ceased to amaze me, Jongin,” Kyungsoo simply states.

 

A hand rubs at the nape of his neck in shame. “It’s been a while since we last kissed, in my defense…”

 

“I don’t think you need any defense,” Kyungsoo hums, opening his own book, but it’s clear that there’s still leftover amusement left as he shakes his head.

 

Jongin’s blush hasn’t ebbed either. He tries focusing on something else, like how cold the grass under his pants is, but he cannot get his mind off Kyungsoo. He’s slightly startled when Kyungsoo positions himself, lying down with his head on Jongin’s lap. Great. Now Kyungsoo is so close to his half-forming erection. He wills the desire away, but it’s not as easy as it seems.

 

“I don’t?” he tries sounding as if he’s not half-choked by the lust… _Fuck, Kim Jongin, you’re not about to fantasize about him when he’s lying on your lap._ Thoughts don’t work as effectively as he would like it, but it helps slightly.

 

“You don’t,” Kyungsoo reiterates, meeting Jongin in the eye. “I like it when you kiss me like that.”

 

“Oh,” is the only reply that Jongin can muster. He’s been dumbing himself down since they started getting closer, but it seems that everyday with Kyungsoo is a new feat when it comes to that.

 

 

 

His lips still feel like they are about to bruise when he arrives at work, but he’s unquestionably floating on cloud nine. Studying with Kyungsoo has been proven ineffective over and over again, and this afternoon was just another piece of evidence. The exams pushed aside, though, he’s practically frolicking across the locker room that Baekhyun has to do a double take when he crosses the room.

 

“You don’t bother hiding it anymore, do you?” Baekhyun teases. “Did you get proposed?”

 

“W-What? No,” Jongin blurts out. “Just let me be, hyung.”

 

There’s a sneer from Baekhyun, but Baekhyun’s stage is coming soon, much to Jongin’s relief. He prepares himself, believing that he’s on the usual schedule when their boss, Junmyeon, walks into the locker room. Junmyeon scans the room for a moment, looking for a specific face and halting his sight at Jongin.

 

“Kai,” Junmyeon is almost wheezing in panic. Jongin blinks, getting to his feet to approach Junmyeon. Junmyeon is quick to usher him out of the locker room, followed by inquisitive eyes. “There’s… this shareholder, and he requested for you specifically. On private.”

 

“Me? But I don’t—“he swallows, knowing that this won’t do well with his heart. “I don’t do private dances anymore.”

 

Junmyeon worries his lip between his teeth, truly concerned. There are beads of sweat forming on his forehead, and it makes Jongin feel bad. Junmyeon has been treating him well all this time, and seeing the man in distress puts a lot of load on him.

 

“Is it— Is it okay if it’s just a lap dance?” he eventually asks, compromising with himself.

 

“Yes!” Junmyeon hurriedly replies, as if scared that Jongin would change his mind. “Absolutely. And uh, one more thing.” He fishes something out of his pocket, and hands it over to Jongin. “He asked for you to wear that.”

 

Jongin swallows. “Okay.”

 

“Alright, please do well, Kai,” Junmyeon half-pleads. “He’s very important.”

 

There’s no more words said, as Junmyeon leaves in a rush to take care of other business after patting Jongin on the shoulder in encouragement, abandoning Jongin with all the thoughts that run amok in his mind.

 

He stares at the mask in his hands, uncertain as to what to make out of it — but then again, some clients really do have weirder kinks. This shouldn’t be out of the blue, especially coming from a VIP guest, so he puts it on before entering the private room.

 

It’s dark in the room, which is unusual, and his tie starts feeling tight around his neck. He can make out a silhouette of the person seated there on the couch across the entry, and feel his own breath penetrating through the fabrics of the mask. It’s soft on his face, but it’s uncomfortable regardless as it obscures his sight further when the room is already dimmed. Hoping that he won’t stumble upon any hindrance in his way as the song begins to play, he slowly starts moving his body to the melodies, the beat too sensuous for his liking since all that he can think about is his boyfriend.

 

As his eyes begin to adjust to the darkness, he sees the silhouette, realizing it’s a man’s figure perusing him. There are seeds of nausea emerging in the pit of his stomach, but he does what he has to do. It’s a job, after all. He loosens the tie around his neck, liberating himself from the choking… and fuck, he can feel his groin tightening in his pants even before he approaches the pole in the room. This is why private dances are never his forte, as it’s not the stage where he can simply perform, teasing the audience in the open with his expressions. On private, he has to entertain, and it gets too sexual for his taste now that he has someone who occupies his mind. Still, he has a task, and professionalism remains as one of his strongest traits.

 

He counts three huge strides towards the silhouette, and he offers a tentative smile before noticing his own stupidity. The mask covers his face entirely with nothing exposed at all, and there’s harsh breathing that comes with the anxiety that washes him anew. He’s not usually nervous — he’s two years into this business, for god’s sake, but something about this doesn’t sit right with his conscience. The guest is waiting, though, and he cannot make out the person’s expression, although in his imagination the person’s silhouette is somewhat familiar.

 

It must be a figment. He ensures himself of that as he moves to the beat, unbuttoning his shirt as he goes. This is Kai, he tells himself, this is Kai and not Jongin. There’s nothing personal that comes with this even when he’s hard with thoughts of someone else, and he uses it towards his cause, taking advantage of it as he removes the shirt completely, discarding it alongside a strike of a sharp move. The beat is slow, still, and he wishes the person had chosen something else. This is a bad idea, overall, the foreboding dread doesn’t seem to leave him, so he’s almost grateful that he has the mask on.

 

Hips swaying, he’s about to approach the pole when the guest makes the invitation to come straight towards him with a hand. He chuckles loud enough for it to be above the music’s volume, as it’s supposed to be fun for the guest as long as he’s not extending any more favor than what he’s comfortable with. Believes so, at least — he doesn’t know what limits mean in this room when he realizes that there’s no red dot from where the camera is, knowing that this person is truly significant to the club, as his boss has said. And as such, he cannot jeopardize the club’s position, but he can always rush through it as long as it’s not as obvious, or so at least he hopes.

 

Rhythmical guidance is what’s keeping him sane, and he focuses on that, the fluidity retained over the decades of dancing shining through what he hopes would be a silhouette of artistic movements. He knows how to maneuver around the room well enough to not bump into things, and knows how to dance with liquid preciseness well enough to not ruin the moment. The body is an asset for him to exploit as he struggles with the fact that he cannot utilize his facial expressions to impress. The mask has made his job half a struggle, for sure.

 

The last to take off would be his pants, expecting that since the guest has asked for him to wear the mask, he isn’t the one to make the decision if it stays, or gets stripped too. He finishes the work with an easy move as he follows the beat, the song transforming into something inexplicably gentler. Probably also per request, and with that, the closer he is to the man, and the faster his heartbeat is. The man reminds him so much of someone he should spend time with instead of being here, but he’s not about to back off either. He approaches the man with one last step, and spreads his legs, having the man’s legs wedged between his knees.

 

He positions his gloved hands on the man’s shoulders as he squints under his mask, half-certain that it’s Kyungsoo, face definitely not as elated as the guest’s should be. The waves of nausea are turning tides, and it feels like his anxiety is forcing his digested kimbab upward. He swallows: there’s nothing but the man’s pants and his own skintight boxers between their dicks, and his erection doesn’t help. Alas, he needs to keep it moving, and he does so once the man stabilizes his position by putting those familiar hands around Jongin’s hips. There are frictions, and there is his job. He feels like he’s compromising Kyungsoo’s trust in him, although… isn’t this Kyungsoo? He doesn’t know, doesn’t want to know if that’s the case either.

 

What’s Kyungsoo doing in a strip club without Jongin’s knowledge anyway?

 

“You’re hard,” the customer’s comment snaps him out of it, “and distracted.”

 

There’s neutrality in the voice, with a tinge of amusement, but Jongin knows that voice well enough to freeze. He musters a frail attempt at disguising his surprise, letting out a laugh that he hopes doesn’t come off as too nervous. “Sorry,” he says, and cannot help himself when he decides to throw a remark in return while doing his job, gaining the momentum to prove himself wrong. “You’re not the type to come to this kind of place either, are you?”

 

A bark of cynical laughter from the customer, but this close, Jongin is sure that it _is_ Kyungsoo. It’s just uncharacteristic of Kyungsoo to do such things, and there’s a wince forming on Jongin’s face that he realizes late. “Just do your job,” is all that Kyungsoo says.

 

It stings, then it burns. He realizes that there are both fear and ire, that he’s scared Kyungsoo knows it’s been him all along and that he’s angered Kyungsoo decided to visit his workplace without prior knowledge to his boyfriend. But fuck, he needs this job — what’s Kyungsoo’s defense? Maybe Kyungsoo frequents strip clubs all along, who knows, they’ve only been together for a month. Perhaps this is his karma for not being honest with Kyungsoo, too.

 

Or maybe, just maybe, Kyungsoo has known about this lie all along and decided it’s the right time to come and ask Jongin about it. Either way, Jongin knows this might be a breakup, and there’s a tremendous ache forming in his chest. He cannot work like this.

 

He shakes his head, then, about to reach for the end of his mask when the customer — well, Kyungsoo, grabs his wrist to stop him. Kyungsoo tilts his head, and even in the absence of illumination, Jongin can sense that something isn’t right with Kyungsoo as well. “Let it stay there,” Kyungsoo commands. “Continue with the dance.”

 

“No,” he retorts, getting back on his feet. He feels lightheaded from the onslaught of emotions, and nearly falls backwards but manages to steady himself. “Sorry. I’ll — I’ll tell another dancer to come here instead.” And with that, he manages to mildly collide against the coffee table on his way out, but he’s out nonetheless, running towards the nearest restroom.

 

 

 

“Right,” Sehun sighs, watching as Jongin stirs the noodles that are inevitably getting cold. “So, are you going to talk, or what?”

 

He doesn’t look up from the noodles, knowing that if he looks at Sehun, his eyes will water again. He’s cried enough in the restroom, but his eyes still feel like a dam, threatening to come off with an avalanche of tears. He swallows thickly, again, before eventually trying to speak. He’s wasted Sehun’s break time as it is, anyway. “I think Kyungsoo is breaking up with me.”

 

“Huh?” Sehun doesn’t even miss a beat. “Why? You two were fine yesterday.”

 

He stirs the noodles just a little more rigorously, palpably nervous. “I think he knows… about my job.” Believes Sehun, too, is stiffening at that. It’s not like everyone can be as open-minded as Sehun when it comes down to this.

 

“… How?” Jongin can feel Sehun’s usual eyebrow quirk, judging. “Did you tell him?”

 

“No.” He sounds weak, even to himself. “He came to where I work. I think he knew it was me… I was, I don’t know. I was masked. He told me… Well, no, he told my boss, who told me to wear the mask. It was confusing, but I’m sure it was him. He knows.”

 

“Oh, fuck. Sounds like confusion indeed. Has he talked to you since?”

 

“No, and I’m scared of talking to him first,” he shakes his head. “I don’t want to break up.”

 

His stomach growls, then, asking for a refill after the bout of anxious puking that he did back in the club. He winces, but thoughts render his appetite naught.

 

“But hey, what was he doing in the club, anyway?” Sehun finally asks after Jongin takes a mouthful of noodles.

 

Almost choking, he forces himself to swallow in spite of the late, growing anger. “Fuck, Sehun. You’re right — I should’ve been angry too, shouldn’t I?” Reminded of his earlier train of thoughts that wondered the exact same question as the one Sehun just mentioned, the mixture is unpleasant inundation. He pushes the bowl of noodle away, trying to not get carried away with the anger. There’s a tinge of tears forming in the corners of his eyes, and he can only look down at his own hands so as not to let Sehun see him like this.

 

Sehun doesn’t speak until it’s drawing close to a minute. “Hey, I gotta go back to work,” Sehun speaks carefully, and Jongin only nods. “Give me a call later if you feel like talking.”

 

 

 

He’s been sitting in front of the noodle house for approximately an hour, on the step so close to the threshold that he possibly chases away some potential customers by looking so pitiful. Had the owner ahjumma not known him from Sehun, he would’ve been warded off the premise for sure. It rained earlier, and the cold seeps into his hoodie, straight to the bones. He feels numb, but after a rewind of thoughts, there are some heavy considerations that dawn into him.

 

First, the fact that he doesn’t know Kyungsoo that well yet. As an afterthought, it’s not unlike Kyungsoo to visit strip clubs, considering that Jongin doesn’t really know what Kyungsoo _is_ like. It’s not like there are a lot of people who know Kyungsoo after his moving back to Seoul a few months ago. Heck, the closest person who might know him best might be Jongin, who has gravitated towards the man since the first week of Kyungsoo’s arrival to their university. Thanks to Chanyeol, really, a mutual friend that invites them to a house party that bored the both of them.

 

Still, he knows next to nothing about the man. And it just… hurts. Then again, thinking about it, he also hides a lot of secrets from Kyungsoo. It’s not like the injustice comes from Kyungsoo’s side alone; if this ever comes to light, he also needs to take some of the blame. He swallows, not ready for the outcome that looms over them, because he’s quite certain that Kyungsoo would look at him as a lower caste with such a job. That, on top of the fact that they’re gay, doesn’t make this relationship effortless.

 

He feels the rivulets of tears welling up in his eyes again as he sits hugging his legs against his chest when someone makes a stop in front of him. He’s ready for it to be a scolding customer, telling him to move aside, but he recognizes those shoes. When he looks up, he finds the constant subject of the mind, with a soft smile sitting on Kyungsoo’s lips.

 

“Jongin,” he greets. “Did you just finish working?”

 

As if nothing is wrong. Jongin’s mouth falls agape, unsure as to how to reply to Kyungsoo, but the man seems to not show any sign of aggravation. It’s as if what happened in the club has dissipated completely — either that, or it wasn’t Kyungsoo. But Jongin isn’t a fool, he’d notice his boyfriend. Still, he doesn’t know where to begin the conversation when Kyungsoo acts like he wasn’t with Jongin hours earlier.

 

“Hyung,” he croaks back shamefully, averting his gaze somewhere else. “I— Uh— Y-Yeah. I just finished.”

 

What else is left on his device if it isn’t another lie?

 

Kyungsoo frowns, bending his body to lean towards Jongin, his thumb wiping the remnants of tears on Jongin’s face. “You all right?”

 

The answer is as obvious as day, but Jongin knows that if he happens to bring the conversation up, the possibility of a break up will swell right then and there. “Mm,” Jongin says, going along with whatever it is that Kyungsoo is playing. “I’m just… exhausted.”

 

Kyungsoo settles on the empty spot next to him, wrapping an arm around Jongin’s shoulders. There’s goose bumps flaring up his spine since Jongin isn’t certain anymore if he knows his boyfriend that well; there’s an edge of manipulation to Kyungsoo, even when Jongin, too, lied. When Kyungsoo squeezes the joint between his shoulder and arm in a comforting massage, though, Jongin realizes just how weary he is. He doesn’t stop himself when he lays his head on Kyungsoo’s shoulder, nuzzling Kyungsoo’s coat. Kyungsoo smells of the usual cologne.

 

“I fell asleep earlier,” Kyungsoo explains. “I assumed you were working, too. Did anything happen? Do you want me to drive you home?”

 

Jongin sniffles, a hand rubs at the embarrassing tears that start trickling. Even when they feign normality, he knows that there’s still the trepidation over breaking up. He wants to savor the moment before it’s all clawed away from his grip. “It’s fine,” Jongin eventually resorts to another lie, hoping to elongate their relationship, albeit short. “It’s late anyway, I can take the bus…” Although he doesn’t really want to, to be honest. He just doesn’t know how to behave around the Kyungsoo he’s just discovered.

 

“Jongin,” Kyungsoo’s voice grows stern. “I’m sending you home, okay? You’re not fine.”

 

He refrains himself from asking Kyungsoo all the questions that run amok in his head, nodding weakly. Kyungsoo has to help him get up, his legs tremble slightly from sitting in the same position for so long. When Kyungsoo guides him to the car, he has to double-check. An Audi, something that Kyungsoo has barely driven it seems since he usually takes the bus with Jongin. Now it dawns on him how Kyungsoo might be rich, and how he is the VIP guest of the club. Turns out there are more secrets that Kyungsoo is hiding from him than just meets the eye.

 

Sliding into the passenger’s seat, he sits in silence as Kyungsoo starts the engine. He looks down at his hands again, still feeling the slight tremors. Fortunately, Kyungsoo doesn’t ask any more questions, just driving towards Jongin’s place. There are lies, more lies. And there will be so many more, Jongin has figured — the more that he escapes this, the more that he needs to create a lattice of untruths. He cannot bring himself to ask Kyungsoo about it, nevertheless, fearing of what the result would be.

 

Jongin doesn’t realize that they’ve arrived in front of his place until Kyungsoo strokes Jongin’s cheek with the back of his hand. “We’re here,” Kyungsoo says in an almost whisper. “Let me know if there’s anything I can help with. You should sleep — it’s late.”

 

Instead of taking the suggestion, Jongin catches Kyungsoo’s hand by the sleeve, mouth gaping open as if to say something, but he swallows it down.

 

“Jongin? What’s wrong?” The blatant worries in Kyungsoo’s voice makes his heart ache, as he knows he doesn’t deserve it, being a bit fat liar that he is. He cannot even meet Kyungsoo’s eyes.

 

“Do you still love me?” he asks instead of spilling the honesty that reaches the base of his mouth already.

 

At that, Kyungsoo chuckles, lightly so. It’s not the same as the cold customer that Jongin encountered earlier. He feels Kyungsoo’s hand, caressing his cheek. “Of course I do,” he sighs. “What kind of question is that?”

 

“I don’t— I just—“he cannot seem to find the right words. His mind is jigsaw pieces crumbling from their respective spaces. “Can you please stay for the night?” He braces himself then, looking at Kyungsoo expectantly. There’s a wave of surprise at the invitation, washing Kyungsoo’s expression. But it lasts a mere second, as Kyungsoo seems pleased by it.

 

“I can, but I don’t bring any necessities,” is all that Kyungsoo responds with. Almost nonchalant, leaving Jongin with doubts if Kyungsoo was the customer, or if Kyungsoo is just a really, really good actor. He surmises that it’s the latter for now.

 

“I have a spare toothbrush,” Jongin hurriedly replies. “And I can lend you my clothes.”

 

Kyungsoo looks at him in that concerned manner, still, and Jongin feels like shriveling under the gaze. They’re dwelling in another second of silence before Kyungsoo takes off his seatbelt, and kills the engine. The soft rumble of the car comes to a stop, and Jongin doesn’t really know how to react when he was the one asking for this.

 

“Let’s go?”

 

“Y-Yeah,” Jongin follows, taking off his seatbelt and getting out of the car alongside Kyungsoo. He leads the way towards his small studio apartment, enough place for him. He doesn’t take Kyungsoo’s hand like he would usually do, considering that there are cameras at the end of every hallway. Kyungsoo tails him without talking much, and when Jongin glances at him, Kyungsoo is looking around the apartment. His room is on the first floor.

 

The click of his door opening sounds heavier than usual, and he opens the door wide, letting Kyungsoo walk in first. Kyungsoo toes his shoes off, and so does Jongin. It’s a humble abode for Jongin, consisting of one bedroom and one bathroom, with a small study area adjacent to the kitchen, just across the living room.

 

There’s a smile pulling the corners of Kyungsoo’s lips, and Jongin cannot help but marvel in the sight — no wonder Kyungsoo oozes such charisma, when he was born and raised in a wealthy family. There’s a certain poise in Kyungsoo that makes Jongin feel Kyungsoo doesn’t belong in such a simple place.

 

“Sorry, it’s… not much,” Jongin says shyly, tongue darting to wet his lips nervously.

 

Kyungsoo shakes his head in answer, however. “I’m just glad you invited me here.” He sweeps the surroundings with a look, again, before gesturing to the couch. “Am I taking the couch tonight?”

 

“N-No!” Jongin is embarrassed, now. He didn’t think of the logistics when he requested for Kyungsoo to stay the night, but he only has a queen-sized bed for himself and that’s it. “We’re… taking the bed.”

 

Jongin is flustered, unsure of what he’s suggesting by sleeping on the same bed as Kyungsoo. It feels like they just had their first kiss yesterday, after all — their progression with such things has been slow at best. He busies himself by getting into his bedroom, digging into his piles of clothes for a fitting sweater and cotton pants for Kyungsoo. He rubs at the nape of his neck while standing in front of his dresser, knowing that he’s rather… desperate, hanging onto a thin filament of their relationship.

 

He shuts his eyes for a moment before stepping out, willing all the anxiety away. Kyungsoo is still standing where he was before, waiting with his hands shoved in the pockets of his coat. He hands the clothing articles over to Kyungsoo. “Hope it’s not too oversized, hyung,” he says.

 

Kyungsoo grins at that. “Is it the part where you call me short?” he jests, and Jongin can’t help but laugh a bit.

 

“I didn’t mean it, but you’re maybe right.”

 

 

 

Even in the oversized sweater and pants, Kyungsoo looks glorious. Jongin has to do a double take at that, swallowing with his parched throat. As they climb onto the bed, Jongin takes the inner side upon preference. Kyungsoo doesn’t seem to mind, lying there while leaving a comfortable distance between them that Jongin aches to close. So he does, not so furtively. He might be suave as Kai, but as Jongin, nearby Kyungsoo he’s a fumbling mess.

 

“Well, this is awkward,” Kyungsoo eventually speaks, rupturing what little bubble of safety that Jongin creates as an illusion for himself. It’s Kyungsoo that makes the first move, lying sideways so that he can look at Jongin. “What’s in your mind?”

 

Jongin has to force himself to look at Kyungsoo, heartbeats running faster by the second in an unpleasant acceleration. He doesn’t say anything in return, lying sideways to stare back at Kyungsoo. There’s fear, inevitably creeping back, so he decides to tangle his legs with Kyungsoo’s and nuzzle the crook of Kyungsoo’s neck. This close, he inhales Kyungsoo’s scent, his fear of losing Kyungsoo tripled. Kyungsoo’s arms are twined around him, rubbing across his back, making him wonder what Kyungsoo is thinking at the moment.

 

“I’m thinking about you — us,” he replies truthfully after a tentative kiss against Kyungsoo’s neck.

 

“What about us?” Kyungsoo asks, humming as he returns the gesture by pressing a lingering kiss on the side of Jongin’s head. “We’re doing fine, aren’t we?”

 

It’s a jab in the gut for Jongin, and the lub-dup of his heart speeds up again. He knows that he cannot hold the lies anymore, the deluge of guilt refraining him from being a liar anymore. “Hyung,” he starts again with a serious tone, “you knew it was me, right?”

 

There’s nothing but quiet, lodging itself in the small space between them. Kyungsoo doesn’t say anything for a moment. In the dark, it’s difficult to make out Kyungsoo’s expression, but Jongin is fairly sure that it’s nothing pleasant. Jongin wishes that he hadn’t said it, but to live in a false pretense is a torture; he has done so in the past months, with Kyungsoo not knowing, and that’s gnawing on him inside out. He can’t continue this anymore.

 

When Kyungsoo untangles himself from Jongin, pulling away, that’s when Jongin starts to panic. He hoists himself into a sitting position, following Kyungsoo who’s seated across him on the bed. He’s still unable to discern the demeanor that Kyungsoo is donning, but again, the pessimist in him tells him that he should brace himself for the outcome.

 

“I’m sorry, hyung,” he adds, the plea for forgiveness dripping from the edge of his tone. “I shouldn’t— I shouldn’t have hidden it from you.”

 

He looks away, but Kyungsoo reaches out for his hands, taking them into the soft hands. “Well, I did. It’s been a while since I first discovered,” Kyungsoo admits, causing Jongin to stiffen. “I just wanted it to come from you.”

 

“… Are you angry?” He carefully asks, looking down at the silhouette of their hands under the minimal lights siphoned from the blind gaps.

 

“Now? No, not really,” Kyungsoo says as he gives Jongin’s hands a reassuring squeeze. “I was angry, so I might have been a smug bastard back there. I’m sorry for causing you distress.”

 

Jongin shakes his head profusely. “It’s my fault. What — What were you doing there, though?”

 

“Apart from getting my boyfriend to dance for me? Not much.” There’s a hint of amusement in Kyungsoo’s voice. “My father owns some shares in the club. He wanted me to learn the ropes. Then I found you there, just—“Kyungsoo stops his sentence midway, leaving Jongin blushing. He knows what the next part of the sentence would be.

 

“Yeah, it’s the only job that makes my dancing worthwhile, somewhat, and I can use the tips for extra pocket money,” he confesses. “I don’t do that with my clients, I promise.”

 

“Judging from the way you reacted to me in the room, I don’t doubt it.”

 

The heat creeps onto his cheeks, of course, even with the amount of indifference — and a tint of mirth — in Kyungsoo’s voice. Heaves a sigh, then. At least Kyungsoo doesn’t seem to mind, so far. “Why… the mask then?”

 

He can make out a shrug from Kyungsoo’s end. “Like I said, I wanted the confession to come from you, so we could’ve pretended it didn’t happen if you had treated me like a stranger. Besides, I hated the way you looked at your clients. That, and I thought you’d be hot in it.”

 

“Hot? I’m—“Jongin swallows. He knows how people look at him in this line of work; he’s not overly naïve, but with Kyungsoo, it’s different. “Was… Was I?”

 

Kyungsoo’s laugh fills the otherwise silence between them, but this time, it isn’t a snarky one. Instead, it’s almost gentle. “With all those faces you make during your performances, I thought you’d know.”

 

“But it’s different, hyung.” He mulls over this, how instead of fighting over his profession, they’re having a calm discussion over it. “Are you… still angry? Is this— Is this a break up?”

 

“I’m trying not to be, Jongin.” Kyungsoo’s answer is honest, it seems, giving Jongin a short-lived peace. “And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t mind your job, but now I’m trying to live with it, so no, it’s not.”

 

Jongin’s eyes widen, startled at the final result. Before he has enough time to digest it, Kyungsoo has leaned forward to press a kiss on his lips, lingering. His breath is brushing Jongin’s cheek; this close, Kyungsoo smells like the mint from Jongin’s toothpaste and the sillage of his cologne. Kyungsoo’s hand moves from enveloping Jongin’s to stroke the cheek.

 

“I can’t lie, though, you look sensuous on stage,” Kyungsoo teases. “Can’t believe I’ve been depraved of that. You also still owe me a dance.”

 

It’s inevitable that the blood is suffused to his cheeks, now. He feels braver, oddly, and dares himself to ask, “Will I get a treat after that?” Shyness is still prominent in his voice, but he doesn’t relent.

 

“Only if you’re being a good one,” Kyungsoo replies without missing a beat.

 

Jongin grins with certainties, pressing a quick kiss on Kyungsoo’s lips before leaving to get what he accidentally carried home from work. He places the mask over his head again, but this time with convictions. When he returns into the dark room, illuminated enough for Jongin to see that Kyungsoo is now resting against the headboard, he finds himself striding over to the bed. He hums when Kyungsoo places a hand on his cheek as he straddles Kyungsoo’s hips, slowly grinding against Kyungsoo’s pelvis.

 

“Why were you hard?” Kyungsoo’s question doesn’t break his rhythm, but a deluge of embarrassment floods in.

 

“I was… thinking about you,” he returns as he places his hands against the headboard, resting his weight against the vertical plane. And he can feel it, the rush down to the south. His briefs is growing uncomfortably tight. The friction indubitably aids in making him harder.

 

A tsk from Kyungsoo as he clacks his tongue against the palate of his mouth. This close, Jongin can feel Kyungsoo’s eyes on him, intimate as he peruses Jongin. This close, Jongin feels rather exposed, naked. He continues with his work even when it’s without any music, and when Kyungsoo moves to press his lips against Jongin’s neck, there’s a gasp elicited. Jongin cannot help but arch his neck as Kyungsoo starts leaving hickeys.

 

“That’s good, Jongin,” Kyungsoo compliments, hands on Jongin’s hips as he buckles upward too, letting Jongin feel that he’s hard as well. “I’ll make sure everyone knows you’re mine.”

 

His breathing grows faster steadily as Kyungsoo’s hand roams, sneaking past his sweater to leave ghosts of fingerprints all over Jongin’s back. The other one isn’t kept unoccupied, guiding Jongin to a stop and stroking Jongin’s groin. Jongin bites back a hiss at the feelings of being touched there, practically sitting atop Kyungsoo’s lap as Kyungsoo peppers his clavicles with kisses.

 

“Hyung,” he whispers as he places his hands on Kyungsoo’s shoulders. It’s cold outside even with the heater on, but he can feel the beads of sweat gathering under the fabric. “Please…”

 

“Mm, patience,” Kyungsoo speaks even when he himself is hard. It seems that he has a good balance of control when it comes to this. He traces the shape of Jongin’s cock, settling on slipping a hand under the band of Jongin’s sleeping pants. When the cool hand reaches his cock, there’s his briefs separating his erection from Kyungsoo’s touch. He knows that Kyungsoo’s intention is to tease him when the thumb moves around the head in a circular motion.

 

“D-Don’t tease,” he pleads, his voice trembling with the weight of the thrill.

 

Kyungsoo chuckles. “Maybe this is your karma for teasing those people,” he murmurs as he dives back into kissing Jongin’s neck — and whatever is exposed beneath the mask’s hem. Jongin takes a deep breath, wanting to curse out loud because fuck, he’s really hard.

 

Patience is never a virtue when it comes to this, so with a swift motion he pushes Kyungsoo back by the shoulders, eyes hazed with lust although Kyungsoo cannot see it through the mask. “I don’t know, hyung,” he says, tone a bit lilted. “I think after months of jerking off from the thoughts of you alone, I deserve not to be teased.”

 

“Months,” Kyungsoo quirks his eyebrows, and pulls his hand out of Jongin’s pants only to grab Jongin’s sweater, taking it off. The chill of the weather makes Jongin shudder lightly, but he doesn’t wait to do the same with Kyungsoo, discarding both sweaters onto the floor. “Must’ve been some difficult times for you before we started dating, huh?”

 

“I believe so,” he sighs, craning his body to the side to reach the nightstand drawer, where he keeps his bottle of lube and a pack of condoms under a book. “Spare me now, hyung. I’ve waited for so long.”

 

“You’ve come prepared,” Kyungsoo’s voice is tinged with amusement, still, but he takes his time to take off his pants and briefs.

 

Jongin follows, but he makes sure that his stripping is personal — not the typically sensual stripping that Kai would do. All the regimes of pole dancing and general exercising have born their fruition, so at least he’s not ashamed of his body. And speaking of the body, there’s… Kyungsoo’s — his smaller stature doesn’t mean he doesn’t have broad shoulders and well-sculpted chest. Jongin’s mouth waters. He puts his hand onto Kyungsoo’s bare torso for a while, relishing in the view.

 

It’s Kyungsoo’s turn to hum, then, as he steals the time when Jongin still gapes at his body to enshroud Jongin’s erection in his fist. He starts pumping, first with sluggish moves, thumb still drawing circles on the head. The arching of Jongin’s back definitely speaks of how good it feels, and he lets out an unabashed moan. Kyungsoo’s other hand secures Jongin’s hip after parting the legs, wedging himself between them.

 

The noisy exhales through the thick layer, along with the sheen of sweat on his face make it even more difficult for him to be patient. He almost lets out a gasp as Kyungsoo’s fist moves faster, the increasing pace causing it harder to breathe in the confines of the mask.

 

“That’s sexy,” Kyungsoo whispers against Jongin’s ear as he seems to sense Jongin’s discomfort with the mask.

 

Giving up all his restraints, Jongin huffs. “Hyung… just take me already.”

 

Kyungsoo laughs at that, ceasing his moves and letting the cock go in lieu of lathering his fingers with the lube. The goose bumps rising on Jongin’s back when Kyungsoo starts teasing his entrance with a cool, lubed index finger are expected. He whimpers, wrapping his legs around Kyungsoo’s waist. In his mind, still darkened with the high, he makes out the fact that Kyungsoo is extremely patient. The hard dick is almost pressed against Jongin’s rear, but Kyungsoo makes sure that he’s prepared first. When the finger makes its way into Jongin’s entrance, he leaves all the shame on the doorstep, letting out a loud sound.

 

He has his own fingers digging into Kyungsoo’s back, leaving crescent marks as he desperately clings onto what’s left of his dignity. He wants to beg for more, but Kyungsoo seems thorough with the preparation, only inserting the second finger to scissor when Jongin is ready. It’s not like he’s extremely tight, but it’s been a while since he’s been fucked, and it seems that — as always — Kyungsoo grasps onto that. Looking at the size, Jongin gulps; he might need three fingers to prepare before having it inside him. There’s then another hiss escaping his mouth as the fingers inside him scissor and twist, and when he starts tugging at the hem of his mask, Kyungsoo eyes him in warning that he has to stop.

 

“Hyung.” Another moan of impatience that Kyungsoo replies with nothing but another finger inserted, causing Jongin to toss his head back in pleasure. The noises that come out of his mouth are humiliating at best, and he digs his fingernails further into Kyungsoo’s skin as his legs tighten around Kyungsoo’s lithe body. The fog in his head thickens as well, bringing him into a new height that he hasn’t experienced for so long.

 

When Kyungsoo finally finishes with the preparation, Jongin is left panting heavily, finding his hand stroking his own length and trying to remain persistent, but there’s pre-cum leaking already. Kyungsoo doesn’t seem to mind, unwrapping the pack of condom, wetting his cock with the lube. Another goose bump shoots up his spine when Kyungsoo positions his erection between the cheeks. Jongin lets out a satisfied exclamation upon having the cock in, slowly at first, but then the cadence builds up.

 

There’s a faint smile resting on Kyungsoo’s lips as Jongin starts moving in tandem, his hands securing Jongin’s hips to lock the position. He leans forward to close the gap between them, pressing kisses on Jongin’s neck, clavicle, shoulder, down to the chest. Disbelief blooms in Jongin’s mind, for he still has Kyungsoo after all the fears of breaking up. Trying not to focus on that anymore, he quickens the pace of his pumping to match the pace set by Kyungsoo.

 

The mask is now soaked in his own sweat, uncomfortable, but Jongin persists as he can feel that Kyungsoo is coming closer, and so is he. In fact, he’s on the tip of it, so he speaks with his muffled voice, “H-Hyung, I’m close.” His notification prompts a response from Kyungsoo, with the rhythm evening out as Kyungsoo’s hand wraps around Jongin’s hand to slow down the speed. Jongin lets out a frustrated moan, but when Kyungsoo meets the juncture of his neck and shoulder, sucking a love mark into it, he eases into the slow.

 

It’s extremely intimate, being skin-on-skin, Kyungsoo inside him. Kyungsoo’s hand on his hip is gentle, reminding him of how he hasn’t been touched like this since his last boyfriend. The hand that guides his own is also the same, while the pair of plush lips leaving bruises on him speak more of how he sees Kyungsoo — raw on the edges when he wants to be.

 

When he finally comes, splattering all over his stomach, he cannot help but tossing his head back. “F-Fuck, hyung…” He can feel the warmth spread inside as well, followed by Kyungsoo’s pleased sigh, and when Kyungsoo pulls out, he simply lies back on his bed, panting heavily. Closing his eyes for a moment, he can hear the rough breathing penetrating the mask. He’s about to rip it off when Kyungsoo’s hand swiftly stops him once more, and pins both his wrists above his head. Gaping lips underneath the cloth are met by Kyungsoo’s open mouthed kiss, Jongin believes that this is a piece of heaven, bestowed upon him.

 

“The way you breathe,” Kyungsoo whispers against his mouth, pulling back slightly. “I’ve never thought anyone could be this enticing.”

 

“It’s burning inside, hyung,” he protests, but doesn’t mean it.

 

“Good. That’s what you get for hiding your job from me for so long.” There’s no contained anger in Kyungsoo’s intonation, just a hint of teasing that leaves Jongin less anxious. Kyungsoo seems to notice the labored breath, however, pulling the edge of the mask enough to reveal Jongin’s mouth and nose. In return, Jongin wheezes, but Kyungsoo doesn’t let him do so for too long, colliding his lips with Jongin’s once more. When they part after a tongued kiss, they gasp for air. “I hope nobody has seen you like this before.”

 

“In this mask? No, you’re the first, and only,” Jongin reassures, chuckling hoarsely. “And it will remain that way.” As Kyungsoo hoists himself from Jongin to carefully peel the condom off his cock, tying it up to throw it away, Jongin takes it as a sign to unmask himself fully. His bangs are half-damp, and he ruffles his hair. “I think we might need a shower, hyung,” he suggests. “I’m sticky.”

 

Kyungsoo, halfway through crossing the room, turns around to face Jongin. There’s a grin on his face. “And here I thought you were too shy to initiate a kiss.”

 

Jongin blinks. “Well, it was true…”

 

“Yet here you are, suggesting that we should sleep together, and now that we should shower together.”

 

“Oh—“he chokes on his own saliva, coughing. “I mean— I mean, _I_ might need to shower!”

 

The laugh that entails is carefree. “We just had sex. There’s no shame in that.”

 

 

 

When they slip into the shower, the stall is slightly too small for them, but it will do. The spray of warm water is just what Jongin needs after a long day of rollercoaster ride, emotion-wise. And even better, he has Kyungsoo’s hands on his hips as he absorbs the sight of his lover in front of him. This still feels surreal, and it perhaps shows blatantly on Jongin’s face, for Kyungsoo smiles gently at him on his way to reach past Jongin for the shampoo.

 

Even now, Jongin still feels the heat pooling on his cheeks. “Are you — Are you really okay with me working there, now that you know?” he braves himself to ask, knowing he won’t be able to sleep peacefully tonight otherwise.

 

The frown on Kyungsoo’s face sends his stomach to churn. Instead of answering right away, Kyungsoo prolongs it by lathering the shampoo on Jongin’s hair, standing nearby the stream of hot water. “In the end, it’s your call,” Kyungsoo eventually says. “I’ll support you as long as you come back to me. We’ve been together for only a month, Jongin — I’m not here to tell you what you can or cannot do.”

 

This close, even the densest person would be able to see the thick surprise that colors Jongin’s face. Kyungsoo would have no hard time deciphering it in an instant. “Well, I— Uh—“he’s at lost for words once again, his sigh swallowed by the sound of the running water.

 

The smile on Kyungsoo’s lips is unmistakably mischievous. “Who knew that the charismatic Kai would stumble upon his words like this,” he jests.

 

Jongin musters a playful glare. “I separate my professional from private life, so it’s diff—“except he’s ceased halfway when Kyungsoo’s plush lips meet his own. It’s a deep lip lock, and Jongin is inevitably taken aback.

 

“I believe you,” Kyungsoo says. “You’re doing well at it. Can’t stop thinking that you’re… adorable, though.”

 

A pout, as if that could change anything. “You don’t call a twenty-one-year-old ‘adorable’, hyung.”

 

“But that’s what you are.” The smile that tiptoes in-between fills Jongin’s stomach with silly flutters, and he wants to let out a long whine, if not a delighted scream right into his pillow. “I love you, Jongin.”

 

That sends Jongin spiraling upwards, to the metaphorical heaven. He’s certain that his grin looks stupid, but he grins so widely his cheeks hurt. “I love you too, hyung.”

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to thank everyone who's read this story in advance, it truly means the world. My friends, my beta, who have supported me through the stress since this isn't my best product. People whom I whined to because I'm not good at both fluff and smut... Thank you, you've made this happen, all of you. And also, last but not least, to the Kaifectionery mods! You've been accommodating from the beginning to ending, so thank you again! Hope the readers did enjoy this even with the limited amount of time it was written, and my limited resources when it comes to the genre. To the recipient, I did slightly deviate from the prompt but I hope it's still enjoyable nonetheless!


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